


Sixty Hours

by RedRavens



Series: Ad Astra [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alien Sex, Cum Play, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRavens/pseuds/RedRavens
Summary: Shore leave with Shepard’s favourite Councilor (PWP)





	Sixty Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a prompt from the FWB list “All I am is just a sex object to you.“
> 
> Sparatus calls Sophia Nightingale, but that’ll be explained in another fic.
> 
> Takes place a year or two before the events of Mass Effect!

Sophia lay spent on top of the older Turian, his cum coating her thighs, his fingers playing with her hair, his subvocals thrumming in her ears, a comforting rumble that was nearly lulling her to sleep. She could feel his still erect cock on her thigh, the base larger than the length. His knot, he had called it, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it, but she was looking forward to trying it. Someday.

“When do you need to leave?” The Councilor asked in a lower, intimate, voice, nearly a purr she thought.

“In seventy-two standard hours, but I have to report to my commander before that, so sixty?”

“That leaves twelve hours where you'll be doing nothing.” Sparatus pointed out, finally feeling his knot recede, his cock slowly going back into its sheath.

“I was planning on doing you before that, if you're amendable.” She grinned, her fingertips trailing his sensitive waist.

He snorted, grabbing her wrist and giving it an affectionate nip as she smiled at him, the temptress. He mock glared at her. “All I am is just a sex object to you,” he growled, teasing, his sub-vocals filled with anticipation as he pinned Sophia underneath him, her golden hair in his fist and her throat bared at him, begging to be bitten. His plates wouldn't open for some time - the perks of old age! - but that didn't mean he couldn't show his Nightingale how much he appreciated her.

She grinned at him, her thighs gently squeezing his sensitive waist, “let me clean up this mess, first time without a condom and you're already making a mess on me,” she winked as she pushed him back.

Or tried to.

“Come now, Nightingale,” Deciliam purred, his hands easily holding her thighs open, her cunt pink and dripping from their last session, “you should know I always clean up my messes.” He grinned back at her, his mouth full of sharp teeth and a wicked tongue. She loved that tongue of his.

“Never thought cum eating to be one of your kinks,” she grinned, spreading her legs, her finger dipping on the mess inside her thighs. Abruptly she remembered one of Jon Grissom’s quotes, something about the only thing not silver, on Palaven, were the Turians. It was obvious he had never slept with one.

“Is something the matter?” One of his mandibles twitched, the Turian version of the human raised eyebrow.

“Just remembered something,” she laughed, coating her finger in their mixed cum; his, more than hers. Sophia popped her finger in her mouth, the taste of him salty, metallic, smoky even. So very different from a human.

The universe had never meant for them to be together, and yet it was with him that she found release, mind blowing release if she did say so.

“Thinking about someone else while I'm right here? So rude.” He teased, tongue tasting their mixed cum, cleaning her thighs before his focus turned to her cunt, his tongue teasing her outer lips as Sophia’s breath hitched and her thighs trembled in his hands. “Did I get your attention now?”

“Bastard,” she sighed on his tongue as he licked from cunt to clit, her toes curled, unable to move because of him. “You’re talking too much, shut up and eat me.” She moaned, pushing his head against her pussy, she could feel his mandibles spreading in between her legs, tickling, the damned bastard was grinning!

“Yes, Sir!” He laughed, spreading her legs even further apart, devouring her.

He was more than glad to be at her beck and call for the next sixty hours, they may even train to get her to take his knot, so many possibilities, so much time to make them happen. The Citadel could wait two days while he made his Nightingale sing his name.


End file.
